Not so precious metals moulded into circles
by tardisbluephoenix
Summary: The Doctor recruits Rory to help him find the perfect wedding ring for River. What can go wrong? OTP: Doctor/River and Amy/Rory. brOTP: Doctor/Rory. Later chapters also contain snippets for Doctor/Jack, Rory/Jack, River/Jack, Martha/Mickey shippers. Rated T for suggestiveness.
1. A misunderstanding

_**This story is dedicated to the Australian Nerdfighters, because they are a brilliant beyond brilliant bunch of people, and I cannot even express all my feels.**_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Doctor Who. It's sad, but I'm coming to terms with it._

* * *

**Chapter 1: A misunderstanding**

"River!" he heard Amy squeal, a mere second after she disappeared through the doors of the TARDIS. The Doctor smiled, stepping outside and locking the door behind him, and turned, to see his wife disentangling herself from a hug from her mother, and sauntering towards him, smiling lightly.

"Hello, Sweetie," she called.

When she reached him, she threw her arms around him. "Where are we?" she whispered.

"We've done Demon's Run and Area 52, if that's what you mean." He nibbed her earlobe playfully and placed his hands carefully in the middle of her back, glancing quickly towards Rory, who was wearing his best protective-father face.

"Mm, good, I was hoping for an older version." She caught a bit of skin on his neck between her lips and drew breath. Hard. He gasped, glancing over her shoulder again, towards Rory, whose face was growing red as he glared at the Doctor.

"Mm—Uhh—_River!_ I have a suspicion that your father is less than pleased with the length of this hello."

She laughed, throwing back her head. "What d'you say we really give him something to be less than pleased about, then, sweetie?"

The Doctor frowned, turning over her words in his head, and before he knew what had happened, both his hands were on River's backside.

Amy was trying not to laugh as she stopped her husband from launching himself at the Doctor, and River was laughing hysterically, with a firm grip on the Doctor's wrists, as each of his hands remained clenched—in surprise, he would later claim—on her buttocks.

When the Doctor was done shuffling his feet in the dirt and avoiding eye-contact with Rory, and Rory's blood pressure and facial colour had returned to normal, and River and Amy had dragged themselves off the ground from their fits of laughter, the Doctor spun around, walking briskly towards the three of them.

"So where to, Ponds?"

River and Amy exchanged an excited look which made the Doctor immediately regret asking.

"Shopping!" they shouted, and ran toward the TARDIS. As she passed, River slipped her hand deep into the doctor's trouser pocket to retrieve the key, winking at him as she took hold of something else that definitely _wasn't _the TARDIS key. He gasped and lunged forward in surprise.

When he had regained his composure a few seconds later, he turned to see Rory standing outside the doors of the TARDIS, his expression unreadable.

"You remember I have a sword, don't you, Doctor?" he asked seriously.

"Of course… Rory the Roman, the Last Centurion, a thousand years older than even me; how could I forget?"

Rory took one look at the grave, thoughtful look the Doctor was giving him, and laughed. He clapped the Doctor on the shoulder, sympathetically. "She takes after her mother, like that," he smirked, indicating the Doctor's pocket.

"She started it," he muttered. "She _always _starts it!" he defended himself.

Rory laughed. "Ponds!" he shook his head, "They always do."

He turned to enter the TARDIS, but turned back when he felt the Doctor's hand on his shoulder.

"Rory," he started carefully. "I was wondering if, when we get there, you might help me with something."

Rory frowned, looking hesitant, but agreed.

* * *

"What do you think of this one?" the Doctor called across the store.

"I don't know," Rory answered, considering the small gold ring the Doctor held between his fingers.

"I'm hopeless at this!" The Doctor wailed, frustrated. "Give me an intergalactic alien war any day!"

Rory shot him a sympathetic look from the other side of one of the many heavily-alarmed glass cases in the jewellery store. "No man is, mate."

They continued wandering around the store, Rory with his brow furrowed, and the Doctor muttering to himself about silly Earth wedding customs, as he stared through sheets of glass at not-particularly-precious metals moulded into circles, adorned with jewels, and sold to humans for ridiculous prices.

"Oh, Earth," he chuckled to himself, gazing around at the earnest looks on the faces of the other men in the store.

Suddenly, the realisation of what he was doing wrong hit him like a ton of bricks. He ruffled Rory's hair in excitement. "I'm looking in the wrong place! Come along, Pond!" he exclaimed, striding towards the exit to the store.

"Doctor, wait, you've still—"

"No time to lose!" he called over his shoulder as he walked. "Back to the TARDIS to – "

WHEEER! WHEEER! WHEEER!

The Doctor stared around in surprise as the sirens blared loud in his ears and everything went red…and then not red…and then red…and then not red… And everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing and was staring at him. Why were they all staring at him?

The last thing he saw before being knocked to the ground was Rory standing by the counter of the store, in a fit of side-splitting laughter.

* * *

The Doctor sulked in his chair, his arms folded and his bottom lip sticking out far enough to catch flies, as a barely-composed Rory recounted the story to River and Amy, who were both roaring with laughter.

"It was just a misunderstanding!" The Doctor protested hotly.

"And the look on the security guards' faces, when they tased him five times and it didn't work!" Rory continued, as though the Doctor hadn't spoken, "Oh, it was great!"

"But what were you looking at in a jewellery store, anyway, Doctor?" Amy asked, curiously, looking expectantly at her best friend.

"Oh, he was looking for a chain for his sonic," Rory jumped in casually.

Smoothly, the Doctor agreed, expanding on his friend's lie. "Yeah, I wanted to get a wrist-strap for it. You can do all sorts of tricks with a sonic screwdriver on a wrist strap! Wrist straps are cool!" he babbled excitedly, nodding eagerly.

Amy rolled her eyes at him, while River simply shook her head fondly, before mother and daughter began discussing the shoe store they had discovered that day. The Doctor strolled over towards Rory, on the pretence of checking the TARDIS scanner screen.

"Thanks for covering for me," he muttered gratefully.

"Always here for you, Doc," Rory smiled back.

"You didn't have to tell them about the arrest, though!" he muttered indignantly, glancing towards the women, who were still chatting.

"You were handcuffed by five security guards! How could I _not _repeat that story?" Rory laughed again at the memory of the afternoon.

"Handcuffs," he whispered, glancing towards River, and smiling slyly. "Now there's an idea."

Luckily, Rory was still busy laughing at him being arrested for trying to steal a ten thousand pound diamond wedding ring, and didn't catch the Doctor's personal musings.

* * *

_In case you guys missed it, the Doctor's "Rory the Roman…how could I forget?" line was supposed to be a joke…because the reason he was a Roman to begin with was because he was erased from time and forgotten…. No? Oh, okay. (You know your jokes are bad when you have to explain them…)_

**Reviews are brilliant and I love them.**


	2. Father and son in law bonding

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own any of these lovely characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own, and your, entertainment._

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**Chapter 2: Father and son in law bonding**

The Doctor strode into the TARDIS kitchen the next morning, with a wide smile and a renewed spring in his step.

"Well you're decidedly happier today, aren't you?" Rory remarked, looking up from his cereal.

"River's doing, I imagine," Amy chirped, smiling fondly at her daughter.

"I have my methods," River winked.

SMASH.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking china filled the room. "River!" Both men shouted in unison, their faces reddening quickly as they averted their eyes from one another; Rory's back to his cereal, and the Doctor's to the pieces of the cereal bowl he'd just dropped in surprise.

River laughed, grinning, as she stepped over the broken ceramic, and took her seat. "Oh, calm down, both of you. We're all adults, here." She muttered, with an eye roll in her mother's direction.

* * *

"Right!" he clapped his hands, all business-like. "Amy, River, what are you two doing today?"

"Just me and River?" Amy asked suspiciously.

"Yes, Pond, keep up! Rory and I are going on a little trip today, just the two of us. Sort of like," he waved his hands around, trying to think of the words. "Father and son in law bonding!" he finished, proudly, clapping Rory on the back. "Aren't we, Rory?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Rory shrugged. "Your ride, your choice, I guess."

"Can't we just stay on the TARDIS?" Amy asked.

"Afraid not, Pond. We'll have to drop you somewhere."

"Well, I'd offer my place," River laughed, "But I'm not sure how the Stormcage guards would feel about there being an extra cell occupant."

Amy laughed. "I guess we're going back to Leadworth, then."

* * *

"So where are we going?" Rory asked curiously, closing the TARDIS door behind him.

"We're on a mission, Mr Pond!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh, fun," Rory muttered sarcastically, throwing himself into a seat as the Doctor swirled his way manically around the TARDIS console; flipping switches, pulling levers, pressing buttons.

"A mission," the Doctor continued, throwing a pointed look at his companion, as though daring him to interrupt again, "To find River the perfect wedding ring!"

"I suppose there are worse missions," Rory muttered to himself, as the brakes screeched and they landed. "And why are we going to," he squinted at the scanner, "The planet Sapphirisis, in the 51st century, to find the perfect wedding ring?"

"Come along, Pond! I'll explain on the way!" the Doctor called, already by the door.

* * *

"Rory! I've found it! I've found the perfect one!" the Doctor called excitedly across the large room.

"Good, I was beginning to fear we'd be here for five _more_ hours," Rory said happily, as he strode up the aisle towards his friend, "And then we would miss dinner and Amy would – _WOAH!" _Rory stared at the large, sparking stone in the Doctor's hand. "Is that –"

"TARDIS blue!" The Doctor smiled proudly, tugging on his bowtie with his free hand.

"Wow," Rory tore his eyes away from the rare jewel after a few moments, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "She'll love it!" he smiled.

* * *

"So where does the ring come into this?" Rory asked, as he followed the Doctor into the TARDIS. "All we have is a stone."

"A _perfect _stone," the Doctor corrected.

"Right," Rory nodded, "But how does that stone become a ring?"

"We take it to a jeweller, of course," the Doctor responded indignantly over his shoulder, as he wrapped the jewel with care in a handkerchief, and stowed it in the breast pocket of his tweed.

"And when exactly are we going to do that?"

"I don't know; tomorrow or something, Rory," he waved his hands dismissively, "Why does it matter?"

"It takes a month to get a stone cut and set in a ring, you know. It won't just happen overnight!"

"Yes it will!"

"How?"

"I don't know; I can make it happen?"

"Oh yeah, how?"

"I have a plan. I do. I always have a plan. I always think of everything."

"Yet you didn't think of the time it would take to set the ring?"

"Well… no."

"And what about the design?"

"Umm…"

"Ha! See, I may be just a nurse, but the Doctor isn't always right!" Rory grinned proudly, as the Doctor threw himself into the nearest chair, in the manner of a three year old throwing a tantrum.

"But I have a plan!" Rory announced.

"Oh, do you, Rory Williams? _You _have a plan, do you? Pray, tell me, Rory Williams, of your master plan!" The Doctor spoke bitingly, as he glared up at Rory.

"Time machine," Rory said simply. "We're _in _a _time machine. _We travel to a jeweller's, give them the instructions for the ring, and then the next day, travel to a month later, when the ring is ready."

The Doctor huffed, crossing his arms tighter across his chest. "Firstly, it's much more than just a _time machine, _Rory, it is a _TARDIS_; Time And Relative Dimension In Space; T-A-R-D-I-S. She travels in time _AND _space, and she's one of the oldest things in the universe, and one of the most powerful!" He drew breath. "Secondly, I _did_ know that it takes a month to cut and set a ring, of course I did; nearly a thousand years in time and space, seeing everything, hearing and experiencing everything and you really think I've never needed to know how long it takes to set a stone in a ring?" He huffed indignantly. "And thirdly, that plan is really, really, _unexplainably_—" He frowned. "Well, actually, it's quite good. But I wish it wasn't."

"Would you just shut up and land us back in Leadworth? I don't know about you, but I don't fancy witnessing Amy's wrath if she's made dinner and we're late!"

"It's a time machine," the Doctor imitated childishly, pulling a lever, "We can't be late, we can just go back and make ourselves not-late!"

"Yeah, with your driving, we could be a whole bloody decade late, and we wouldn't know it until we got back and Amy slapped us both across the face," Rory muttered, thankfully unheard by the Doctor as the brakes screeched around them.

* * *

_Spot the 'Chameleon Circuit' song lyrics!_

**Reviews make me a happy Whovian :)**


	3. Dinner and declarations

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except the words on this page. And posters of David Tennant and Matt Smith's gorgeous faces._

_This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful __**pinetree13**__._

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**Chapter 3: Dinner and declarations**

"Uh oh, here's trouble," River muttered sidelong to Amy, as they stood at the Ponds' kitchen counter, chopping vegetables for dinner. The TARDIS had just materialised on the back lawn, and the Doctor and Rory were striding towards the house, with quite a distance between them, both with locked jaws, jutting out like scolded two-year-olds.

"Had a good time?" River chimed cheerily, as the men entered the kitchen. Both merely grunted in response, and River and Amy exchanged glances.

"Trying to kill the carrots with your stare, Rory?" Amy asked with an understanding smile towards her husband.

Rory's face softened considerably, and he smiled apologetically; he was far less stubborn than the Doctor. "Anything I can do?" he offered quietly, shuffling towards his wife.

"Plates and cutlery would be good, thanks."

* * *

Dinner was ate in near silence from the Doctor, who shoved his food around his plate grumpily with his fork, and refused to make eye contact with anyone but his wife, and even then, only grudgingly. Rory, too, offered very little by way of dinner conversation, merely listening as Amy and River recounted some stories from their day in town.

"It was odd, seeing people I know well, who I grew up with, and having to pretend they're complete strangers," River said, as she cut her chicken.

"Yeah, or having people ask me how Mels is, when she's standing right next to me," Amy laughed.

"Or being introduced to your childhood friends as your mother's second cousin from London," River joined in, shaking her head at the memory.

After dinner, Amy and River made their way to the living room, leaving the Doctor and Rory to clear the table and wash the dishes.

"What do you think happened?" Amy asked, worriedly.

"They were both probably being stubborn; the poor TARDIS, being left alone with those two!"

"I suppose we should find out, shouldn't we?"

"Probably," River agreed with a sigh.

* * *

"What happened?" River asked softly, sitting beside the Doctor, who was perched on the edge of the bed in Amy and Rory's guest bedroom.

* * *

"Alright, out with it!" Amy demanded, poking Rory in the chest.

* * *

The Doctor sighed sadly, reaching up to run his hand through his floppy hair. He looked at River, who was startled to see tears forming in his eyes, threatening to escape the safety of his eyelids and cascade down his face.

* * *

Rory sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed to remove his shoes and socks. "He's just so stubborn!" Rory complained, rubbing his forehead wearily.

* * *

"He's a better man than me, River."

He blinked, and the tears fell.

"He's older than me, and better than me. He waited; he waited for two thousand years, stayed by Amy's side in that Pandorica. Plastic or not, he was there the whole time, never giving up, and waiting. He's so _loyal_. He's so _good_."

"Sweetie, you're – " River started, but he cut her off.

"No, River." He said firmly. "I'm a selfish old man, whisking humans off to see the stars, promising them everything and giving them nothing." He closed his eyes, and dropped his face into his hands. "I make them wait. I never stay. I always leave."

* * *

There were a few moments of silence, as Rory stared straight ahead, frowning, and Amy just watched his profile sadly. When he spoke, it was quiet and measured.

"He thinks he's better than me. His ideas are the only ones that matter. His plans are the only ones worth following."

There were a few moments of silence, as Rory continued to stare at the wall of their bedroom. "I just wish he would listen to me sometimes," Rory turned to Amy, and smiled sadly. "I know I can't change that he's a Time Lord, and I'm just another human."

"You are _not _just another human," said a voice from the doorway. Amy and Rory jumped, surprised.

The Doctor took a step forward, into the room, and looked straight at Rory. "Rory Williams, you represent everything that is good about the human race. You are the Last Centurion. You are constant and loyal, strong and fierce, brave and courageous, kind and caring. If every human being was more like you, the Earth would be a far better place, and I wouldn't have to save this damn planet nearly as much."

The Doctor smiled down at Rory, who returned the smile, and stood from the bed. They hugged briefly, as Amy childishly chided, "Awww" in the background, and then the Doctor turned to leave.

"Oh," he said, poking his head back around the doorframe, "Except the nose. The rest of the human race could _definitely_ do without having that nose!" he laughed, quickly dodging the shoe that Rory sent flying in his direction.

* * *

**Reviews make me smile giddily, like the Doctor when he finds out that River is Melody Pond.**


	4. Porridge, paper and piles of pictures

_**Disclaimer:**__ If I owned Doctor Who, every episode would be a River/Doctor flirt-fest, so it's safe to conclude that, regrettably, I do not own Doctor Who._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Porridge, paper, and piles of pictures**

"That went well!" the Doctor smiled cheerily, as he strode back into the guest bedroom.

"Good," River yawned, as she climbed into the bed.

The Doctor stripped down to his pants, tossing his clothes on the chair beside the bed, and collapsed on the bed beside her.

"Goodnight, Sweetie."

"Goodnight, River." He whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.

The Doctor listened as their heartbeats and breathing fell into synchronisation, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. He fiddled with her fingers and lightly traced Gallifreyan words on her arm as she drifted off to sleep on his chest.

When he was certain that River was asleep, he carefully stretched to grab his tweed, and pulled his sonic from the pocket. Quickly, he chose setting seventy-four thousand eight hundred and thirty seven, the new setting he'd added the day before, and cautiously lifted River's left hand. He pointed the sonic at her second-smallest finger, and used his other hand to cover her exposed ear, as the sonic whirred, to take the reading.

Satisfied he had the information he needed, he tossed his screwdriver onto the chair beside the bed, pulled his wife closer to him, and allowed himself to sleep.

* * *

"Rory! You have to see this!" The Doctor exclaimed, pulling his psychic paper from the pocket of his jacket, and shoving it in front of his friend's face.

"Doctor!" Rory said angrily, milk dripping over the side of his cereal-filled mouth as he protested. "I'm eating! Just wait!"

Disgruntled, the Doctor dropped the psychic paper back to the table, and dipped a fish finger in his bowl of custard. "Spoil sport," he muttered, through a mouthful of breakfast.

"What is it, sweetie? _I'm _interested." River took her seat between the two men, and pulled the psychic paper towards her, flipping it open. She frowned. "It's blank."

"That's because it was a message for _Rory_," the Doctor grumbled, pushing his hair out of his eyes, as he smothered another fish finger in custard and lifted it to his mouth. However, before he could take his bite, River leant forward and captured the food in her own mouth. She grinned cheekily up at him as she chewed, while he busied himself looking affronted. She swallowed exaggeratedly and made a face, describing the taste with a few words the Doctor was certain were illegal on a number of planets.

"Serves you right for stealing my breakfast!" he told her, as he shoved the rest of the fish finger into his mouth and chewed defiantly, stopping only to poke his fishcustard-covered tongue out at her childishly.

"Be damned if I'm kissing _you _anytime soon!" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Who's kissing whom?" Amy asked, shuffling sleepily into the kitchen.

"No one's kissing anyone, if I have anything to say about it," River laughed, dipping a finger in the Doctor's custard, and popping it in her mouth, her eyes shining with amusement as she watched him shift uncomfortably in his chair and glance quickly in Rory's direction. (Thankfully, Rory was engrossed in what appeared to be a very taxing game of Angry Birds on his iPhone.)

Later, Rory finished washing his cereal bowl, and left the kitchen. As he walked towards the living room to join Amy and River, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and was surprised to find the Doctor's psychic paper. He pulled it out and flipped it open curiously.

_Rory, meet me in the TARDIS. Don't tell Amy or River._

Glancing towards the living room to check that his wife and daughter hadn't spotted him, Rory left the house, closing the door carefully behind him, and hurried to the TARDIS.

The Doctor was sitting in one of the seats in the control room, turning the TARDIS blue stone over in his fingers. He jumped up when Rory entered, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "Rory Williams, Rory Pond, Rory the Roman!" he cried happily. "Welcome aboard!"

"Umm, you know I _have _been in here before, don't you, Doctor?" Rory said, taken aback. He studied the Doctor carefully as the other man wrapped the stone in his handkerchief once more, and returned it to his breast pocket.

"Don't be silly, Rory!" He waved his hands carelessly in the air before him, and Rory was glad he hadn't taken a step closer.

"What – I'm – I'm not? I _have _been in here, before. Many times, and – "

"Oh! No, no, no!" the Doctor smiled, throwing an arm around the other man's shoulders, and laughing heartily. "Of course I know _that_!"

Rory squirmed in the Doctor's grip. "Then why did you call me silly?" He crinkled his nose in confusion at the man's erratic behaviour.

"Well I was just – I don't – Well, never mind that, now! We're on a mission, remember?" he chattered, smiling eagerly. "We're going to design a _wedding ring!_"

"Yippee," Rory cried, in mock enthusiasm, but his sarcasm quickly crumbled under the hurt look that shot across the Doctor's face.

The Doctor's arm dropped from Rory's shoulders, as he looked down at the stone in his hands, turning it over again, and frowning. "You know you don't _have _to do this with me, you know," He said quietly, staring intently at the stone "I just thought that maybe – because she's your daughter, and her childhood was so…" He cleared his throat.

Rory turned and placed a hand firmly on the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor, it was sarcasm. Of course I want to help. Now come on, you idiot," he hit the Doctor's shoulder lightly and brushed past him, towards the corridor into the innards of the TARDIS. "We've got a ring to design!"

Hours later, The Doctor and Rory were sat on the floor in an archived TARDIS theatre, surrounded by piles of paper containing pictures and sketches of wedding rings of all shapes and sizes, and from many thousands of different planets.

All they had to show for four hours' work were four piles of pictures: no way in hell, absolutely not, maybe, possibly; and a spare space ready for such time that they would find a ring that fit the 'almost definitely' category, which was fast looking like it would end up having to be renamed the 'absolutely definitely' category.

The Doctor gave a frustrated sigh, as he threw yet another sheet of photo paper into growing stack of 'possibly's.

"There are only three more left – _three – _only three more ring designs left in the entire universe – if the perfect ring for River Song isn't one of these three, I will eat my hat!" he declared, stretching across the floor to reach the last photos. Behind him, Rory muttered something that sounded like, "_Knowing you, you'd probably find you actually enjoy the taste of hat."_

Still stretching to reach the final three photographs, the Doctor turned to glare at him, but slipped on some paper under his knee, and fell to the floor of the theatre with a loud THWACK, sending photos flying everywhere and their neatly-stacked piles into disarray.

Groaning, the Doctor rolled over on the floor, and sat up, peeling a photo from his cheek, where it had decided to stick when he fell face-first onto all they had to show for hours of work. Rory looked like he was trying to decide between yelling at his friend for ruining their day's work or laughing at his clumsiness.

"Well I got the last three photos," he grinned sheepishly, holding up the photos.

Rory let out a short burst of laughter, and shook his head as he scooted closer to the Doctor. "Let's see them, then." He plucked one from the Doctor's hand and turned the picture around to face them.

Immediately, they both gasped, staring at the beautiful sketch.

"This is it," the Doctor breathed, tracing his fingers lightly over the paper, as he stared in awe at the ring design.

"I don't know what it is about it, but it just…" Rory trailed off.

The Doctor nodded. His eyes had not left the sketch since he first laid them on it, and his fingers danced lightly across the lines on the page. "Its beauty is unassuming, but undeniable. It's understated, but somehow so bold. It looks so simple, but in fact it's so intricate. The design weaves in and out, but there's always a constant." He tore his eyes from the picture, then, and looked up at Rory through shining eyes. "It's so _River_."

* * *

_If anyone has any suggestions about what they would like to be in this story, the direction they'd like it to go, I would love to hear your ideas! I will of course credit you when the idea is used, and dedicate and all that jazz. So yes, suggestions, please, you wonderful people!_

**Reviews are sexy, just like you, and the TARDIS.**


	5. A cell and a centurion

_**Datclaimer:**__ I don't own these characters. I don't even own action figures of them. I would, but their little plastic faces frighten me, and they don't look anything like Alex Kingston, Matt Smith, Karen Gillan or Arthur Darvill, which is disgraceful and depressing._

* * *

**Chapter 5: A cell and a centurion**

"So what were you doing when we bumped into you on that dirt planet the other day, River?" asked Amy.

"Oh, I had just finished a dig." River waved her hand casually.

"But you're in…" Amy trailed off, and finished her sentence only when her daughter raised an eyebrow in her direction. "You know, _prison_." She finished lamely.

River laughed. "That I am, mother dear. My old professor at the University pulled some strings with the Stormcage management. They're allowing me to do archaeological digs and expeditions, in exchange for a shortening of my sentence, and perhaps eventually a pardon."

"That's great, River, congratulations!" said Rory, squeezing his daughter's forearm affectionately, while the Doctor and Amy exchanged knowing smiles, remembering that River would eventually earn her pardon for her work at the crash of the Byzantium.

I imagine the University is paying the prison a fair bit of money for it, actually," she frowned. "The Stormcage management aren't usually very flexible. Professor Rutledge must have put up a good fight for the arrangement. They wouldn't do it if they didn't need me desperately." She smirked slightly. "The department is basically salivating for my release, so they can have me on the staff as a Professor."

Rory began to ask River a question about her work, but was interrupted by his wife. "Wait," Amy said slowly, "So where do the Stormcage management think you are, now?"

River laughed, "Hell if I know! They're probably searching for me, actually." She paused, and frowned. "I should probably get back," She looked at the Doctor sadly. "Don't want to undo all the work I've done lessening my sentence on that dig, by pulling a disappearing act."

* * *

The Doctor watched sadly, as River flew around the console, flipping levers, hitting buttons and turning knobs, piloting the TARDIS with expertise. He had decided, just this once, to sit back and let her have free reign of the console, so instead of piloting, he was seated in one of the chairs, running his hand nervously through his mess of brown hair.

She sent the Old Girl into flight, and turned to him, startled by the sight of his blank face.

"Sweetie?" she whispered, as she dropped next to him on the chair.

He did not respond for a few moments. He merely stared blankly at the opposite side of the console room, his expression unreadable, with one hand, its elbow propped on his other hand, resting in front of his mouth.

When he pulled himself out of his trance, he looked around, almost surprised to see her seated next to him on the seat, and not at the console. "At Stormcage, are we? Well, come on, Doctor Song, let's get you home, shall we?" And he hit her knee lightly with his palm, standing from the seat and walking towards the door.

River stared after him for a moment or so, startled by his sudden change in mood, then shook it off, and followed him out the TARDIS doors.

He turned to face her and smiled triumphantly, spreading his arms wide. "Stormcage Containment Facility, fifteen minutes after we met you at the dig, and," he checked his watch, "seven and a half minutes after we left that horrible deserted planet where you were doing your ridiculous archaeology rubbish."

His smile turned quickly to an expression of surprise as her fist collided rather painfully with his arm.

"That's for taking credit for my driving, and disrespecting my profession!"

His mouth betrayed his desire to act as though her physical attack did not cause him pain. She smirked at his grunt of pain, and breezed past him, into her cell.

He moved to lean on the open cell door. "I'll be back for you soon," he promised quietly, as his eyes searched her face.

"No rush, dear," she smiled, reaching up to straighten his bowtie. "I've got plenty to do in here."

He scoffed in response, and she frowned.

"No, I really do." He raised an eyebrow. "I have a Doctorate in Archaeology, Doctor. I am eligible to be made a professor once I've earned a pardon from this place, so I'm working on earning the credits while I'm in here. Why wait until I'm out?"

He gave her a quizzical look.

"I mark students' papers, and write journal articles for peer-reviewed journals, and, you know, other academic stuff."

He frowned, looking towards the ground, and she smiled, putting her hand under his chin to lift his face to look at her. "I agreed to kill you and be detained, but not to put my life on hold," She whispered.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't realise you were so – "

"Shut up," she cut him off, her voice suddenly firm. "I agreed to this. This had to happen. It _always_ happens. It was a fixed point in time. The only negotiable part was my consent. It was the only way you could continue to live, and I won'thave you apologising for that!"

He kissed her, then, trying to convey his gratitude and affection for her and everything she'd sacrificed for him with it. Their lips moved effortlessly together, and he walked her backwards slowly, further into her cell, and fell after her onto the bed.

* * *

He whistled lightly to himself as he closed the TARDIS door and crossed the Ponds' small back garden to the back door. He searched his pockets for his key to his best friends' house.

Not being able to find it on a preliminary search of his pockets, he sighed and began to empty pocket by pocket. Breast pocket: psychic paper. No key. Left trouser pocket: a crumpled up napkin, and a paperclip. No key. Right trouser pocket: the underwear that River had been wearing that day (he'd convinced her to let him keep them after they'd gotten—_distracted—_when he dropped her off in her cell). No key.

He tried the doorknob, hoping Amy or Rory had left the door open, but no such luck. He knocked carefully on the door, to no answer, then stepped back, and surveyed the windows in the house; all the lights were turned off, but the downstairs hall light and the kitchen. _Maybe they're upstairs. If they were upstairs, I wouldn't be able to see the lights from the back of the house._

He checked his watch. It was only eight o'clock. _There's no way they'd already be asleep._

He knocked again, louder this time, impatient to get inside. He folded his arms against the cold of the night, and began to walk the perimeter of the back garden, while he waited for a friend that may never come, to open the door and let him inside the warm house.

As he passed it, he peered through the kitchen window. There, on the dining table, were his sonic screwdriver and his keys; the two things that would allow him entry into the house, without having to break a window.

He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Think, you stupid old man, think!" he muttered, hitting himself hard on the forehead, and regretting it immediately when his head began to pound. He made his way back to the door, rubbing his temples in an effort to ease the pain.

He knocked again, louder than the previous times. When there was no answer after another minute of waiting, he stared at the door sternly, willing it to open, and hit it with his fist when it didn't. "Open!" he commanded it, but to no avail.

Just as he was about to retreat to the TARDIS for the night, the door opened, and there stood Rory, red-faced, with messed up hair, and dressed in his Roman Centurion gear.

"Doctor!" Rory exclaimed, scratching his hair awkwardly.

"Rory! Rory the Roman," the Doctor muttered, brushing past his friend and into the house to escape the cold. "Why are you…" he trailed off, and waved the hand which was not nursing his sore head to indicate Rory's attire.

"Umm, well, I –" Rory began before being cut off by Amy who appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her kissogram policewoman uniform, and fixing her short skirt.

"Rory, who was at the – Oh, umm, hello Doctor," Amy stopped dead on the stairs.

"Amy, what are you—oh" the Doctor looked back and forth between his friends and realisation dawned. "_Ohhhh!_" he exclaimed, horrified.

Amy covered her face with her hand, and Rory nodded curtly at the Doctor, and grimaced.

"Oh, well I'll just," the Doctor gestured to the back door wildly, and spun around like a madman, picking up his sonic screwdriver and his keys from the dining table quickly, "I think I'll sleep in the TARDIS tonight, then. You know, let you two get back to your – umm – " he flailed his arms in the air and his face reddened as he scratched his head.

Rory patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "See you at breakfast, Doctor."

"Yes, breakfast." The Doctor opened the door, and avoided eye contact, scratching his head awkwardly. "Goodnight Ponds."

"Goodnight, Doctor," they chorused, as the door closed.

* * *

_This chapter was a bit more suggestive than most. Ah well, it was so much fun to write. Awkward Doctor is my favourite Doctor to write._

**Reviews make me want to post another chapter sooner ;)**


	6. Plates from Paris

_**Datclaimer:**__ I still don't own Doctor Who. I do, however, own the words on this page. That will have to do for the time being._

* * *

**Chapter 6: Plates from Paris**

"I have a meeting in town today," Amy announced the next morning at breakfast.

"Oh, for the new fragrance?" Rory asked, looking up from his phone.

"Yeah, they want me to design a new one. I have an idea of what I want it to be, but…" She trailed off, glancing at the Doctor, who was listening intently. She frowned into her toast then looked up, smiling brightly. "So what are my boys doing today?"

"More testosterone times in the TARDIS!" the Doctor announced, throwing his hands about grandiosely, before stopping and frowning. "Oh, that was rubbish, forget I ever said that, that was—ummm…"

Thankfully, Rory came to his rescue, patting him on the shoulder as he stood from the table. "It's a secret," he teased Amy, wrinkling his nose childishly in her direction, a smile playing on his lips. "Secret men's business!"

"Oookay," Amy laughed, at the notion of her husband and best friend being considered 'men'. "Well, have fun with that, then. I have to go, or I'm going to be late." She stood from the table, and handed her plate to Rory who was washing at the sink. "Don't forget you're on the night shift tonight," she pecked him quickly on the cheek, and then made for the front door. "Make sure you have him back in time for work!" She added, poking her head back around the doorframe, and waving an accusing finger towards the Doctor.

Rory waited until he heard the front door close, before speaking. "So where _are _we going today?"

"We need to find someone to make River's wedding ring," the Doctor told him, leaping from his chair and towards the kitchen with his empty plate and bowl. "And we'll have to stop and get some more fish fingers. You're all out; I just had the last few." He licked some custard from his fingers and grinned at Rory who shook his head and held his hand out for his dishes.

"Don't be silly, Rory, I can wash them!" the Doctor said, flailing his arms as he spoke, and dropping fish finger crumbs all over the kitchen floor.

Rory sighed, and reached for a towel to dry his hands. "Fine, but if you break anything, you'll have to answer to Amy," and he walked upstairs.

Ten minutes later, Rory descended the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen, to the sight of the Doctor leaning on the breakfast bar, with a guilty look on his face.

"You broke a plate didn't you," Rory said, crossing his arms across his chest. It wasn't a question.

"No!" the Doctor threw back defensively.

Rory raised an eyebrow.

"I broke two," the Doctor mumbled.

Rory let out a frustrated groan. "That was Amy's best china. Her parents bought us that as a first wedding anniversary present, and now you've broken it!" His voice was not loud, but his tone was firm.

"Her best china? Who uses their best china for breakfast? And on a Thursday! Thursdays are boring! I thought people only used their best china for special occasions. You know, birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, the one with the made up rabbit who brings everyone chocolate, and…" He trailed off, noticing the exasperated look Rory was giving him. "So, what are we going to do?" he asked lightly, fiddling with his bowtie nervously, and arranging his face into a grave expression, though he didn't really understand what the fuss was about. It all seemed ridiculously _human _to him.

"We?" Rory spluttered. "This is all you, buddy!"

The Doctor frowned. "Buddy?" he enquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," Rory laughed, throwing a dishcloth at his friend's face. "Stop trying to change the subject. We need to replace Amy's china."

"Ha! We! See? We _are _in this together!" the Doctor smiled triumphantly, pulling the dishcloth off his face, and placing it on the counter. "So where does one purchase dinner sets like this?" he waved his hand in the direction of the dish strainer, and nearly knocked the whole thing over.

Rory huffed in exasperation again, and pointed towards the dining table. "Out of the kitchen! Now; before you break something else. My _God, _you're like a two year old!"

The Doctor walked past him, and threw himself into a chair at the table, pouting and sulking, only proving Rory's point further.

"Amy's parents bought that china when they were in Paris last year, and that's the only place you can—"

"Easy!" the Doctor exclaimed, interrupting Rory, and jumping out of his chair, making for the door.

"Easy?" Rory parroted, incredulously. "Paris is in _France, _Doctor, you do know that, don't you?" He followed the Doctor into the back garden. "And getting to France involves air travel and I can't—"

The Doctor had disappeared, through a heavy blue door.

"Oh, right, the blue box that travels through time and space," he laughed at himself, and quickly followed the Doctor inside, closing the door behind him, "Of course."

* * *

"So, we have to decide between taking the whole set home, or just replacing the plate and bowl that you broke," Rory said, as he carried the large box carefully into the TARDIS and the Doctor closed the door behind them on twenty-first century Paris.

Rory set the box down carefully on a seat, then continued. "Personally I think we should just replace the ones you stupidly broke, and not tell her about then. Then whenever you break something, which you inevitably will, we can just replace it. What do you think?" Rory looked up. "Doctor?"

The Doctor didn't respond. He simply stood, leaning his hip against the console, and continued to stare at the wall of the console room, his eyes unfocused, an elbow propped on a hand, and fingers tapping against his cheek.

"Doctor?" Rory asked again, eyeing the Doctor carefully; the other man had been oddly quiet since they had left the store.

"Why does Amy use her finest china every day, Rory?" he asked softly. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back on his neck, as though he was in pain.

Rory leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms across his chest, suddenly uncomfortable. "She says that after travelling with you, after staring death in the face so many times, she didn't want to live her life waiting for the supposedly special days. She says she wants to make every day one of those days." He said it quietly, softly. He knew his answer should hurt the Doctor, but he didn't think lying would do any good, either.

"Oh, Amy," the Doctor whispered under his breath, "Amy, Amy, Amy; the girl who waited; no longer waiting for anyone." An image flashed before his eyes. _A billboard in a large department store, bearing Amy's face, and 'Petrichor: for the girl who's tired of waiting'. _He smiled sadly at the memory.

Moments later, he pulled himself out of his reverie, snapped his head up, clapping his hands excitedly. "Right, back to business then, eh, Mr Pond? We're going to see a man about a dog. Well, not a dog, a ring; actually, more specifically, the jeweller who will make the ring. And not a man, really; well, sort of a man; if a man is still a man that looks like a man but in fact lacks that which makes a man, a man; at least, a human man. I suppose he can be a man, without being strictly human. Hmmm, might not want to say that to his face. He might get offended, and boy you do not want to see that man when he's offended!"

Rory rolled his eyes at the Doctor's incessant rambling, and joined him at the console. "So, _where _are we going, exactly?"

The Doctor pulled a lever and smiled manically as the familiar screeching sound of the brakes filled their ears. "We're going to Torchwood!" he announced jovially.

* * *

_I need input about the future of this story. The question is: do you want for Amy to be let in on the secret of the ring and the wedding so that she can start planning, or do you want the Doctor and Rory to try and do it all themselves, without Amy's help? Let me know, because I can't decide!_

**Reviews make me smile :)**


	7. The legend of the lady

_**Disclaimer**__: I'm working on buying the rights to Doctor Who, in the form of kidnapping Steven Moffat and torturing him until he reveals ALL the spoilers…but at this present time, I own nothing._

_**Disclaimer to the disclaimer: **__Obviously, that was a joke. I am not in the business of kidnapping or torturing. I am in the business of avoiding my university work in favour of writing fanfiction._

_This chapter is dedicated to __**cecilsx**__ who is just brilliant :D_

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**Chapter 7: The legend of the lady**

The Doctor whizzed around the console in his usual haphazard fashion, sending the TARDIS into flight. There was a thud, and a sudden jerk of the ship. Rory leaped from his seat and ran to the console, pushing the blue buttons and glaring across the console at the Doctor.

"Rory! Why did you – what did you–" the Doctor spluttered, as the TARDIS stilled, and the brakes continued to screech. "Don't touch the console!"

Rory crossed his arms, and raised his chin, setting his jaw. "We just travelled to Paris to buy Amy a new set of fine china after _you _broke a plate and a bowl with your clumsiness, Doctor! I will _not_ let you break the new set with your abysmal TARDIS-driving skills!"

"Abysmal?" the Doctor spluttered, offended. "How would you even – you're not even – you don't…" he frowned, scratching his face. "You spend too much time with your daughter," he huffed.

"How else do you think I knew which buttons were the stabilisers?" Rory smirked. The Doctor's pout became more pronounced, and Rory laughed. "Hey, at least I let you leave the brakes on! Now quit acting like a four year old. We've landed."

The Doctor quickly rearranged his face into its regular, non-pouty self, and led the way to the door. The first thing he saw when he stepped out of the door was a tall, handsome man, in a long, black trench coat, surveying him with curiosity.

"Jack!" he smiled, opening his arms wide.

"Doctor?" the man smirked, his eyes raking up and down the Doctor, until they finally came to rest on his face. "Nice chin," he chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets and circling the newcomer, examining him. The Doctor rubbed his chin self-consciously, but stayed silent. He knew this wouldn't take long. Once Jack had circled him once, and was standing in front of him again, he cocked an eyebrow, his smile reaching fullness.

"Tweed, Doctor, really? And a _bowtie?_"

"Hey!" He exclaimed in protest, straightening his bowtie. "Bowties are cool."

Jack merely laughed, and shook his head, slapping the Doctor on the arm. That was when his eyes fell on Rory, who was hovering awkwardly in the background.

"And who do we have here?" Jack asked silkily, striding towards Rory and giving him the once over.

"Ah, yes," the Doctor said, clearing his throat. "My apologies, I didn't introduce you; how rude of me," he moved to stand next to Rory, throwing an arm around the man's shoulders. "Jack, this is Rory Williams, my friend and," he paused, smiling cockily, "father-in-law." He grinned at the dumbfounded look on Jack's face, and continued. "He also goes by Rory Pond, Mr Pond, Roranicus, Rory the Roman, and The Last Centurion."

Rory smiled awkwardly at Jack, a little unsettled by the somewhat hungry way the man had been regarding him.

"And Rory," the Doctor continued, "This is the infamous Captain Jack Harkness, of Torchwood Three."

Jack threw a dazzling smile at Rory, "Pleasure to meet you." He then turned to the Doctor and, without missing a beat, said, "You're _married?_"

Rory laughed, and the Doctor merely nodded.

"To _who?"_

The Doctor smiled cheekily. "You haven't by any chance happened to have heard of River Song, have you?"

Jack's jaw dropped, and he stared at the Doctor, completely lost for words, while the Doctor simply winked, and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes, while waiting for Jack to regain his ability to speak.

"Married – you – River _Song _no way – I—"

The Doctor smirked at Rory, who was watching the entire exchange with mild amusement. He knew how famous his daughter was throughout the universe, and he knew a bit of the history of Jack, thanks to the TARDIS archives that he and Amy had had much fun rifling through while the Doctor left in the middle of the night to take River for romantic dinners in other centuries and thought the two of them were asleep.

Finally, Jack repossessed his ability to speak, and said weakly. "I've read so much about her. She seems so – I mean, I've always wanted to—"

"You've always wanted to _what, _Jack?" The Doctor asked playfully, cocking an eyebrow in his excitable friend's direction. He could imagine exactly what Jack wanted from River. "And keep in mind that you're speaking to her husband and her father."

"To meet her, of course," Jack winked, then turned on his heel and strode towards his office, indicating that they should follow him. When he entered the room, he ignored the chair behind his desk, and sat instead on the edge of the desk, facing the Doctor and Rory, who each stood in the middle of his small, neatly and professionally furnished office.

"So, what can I do for you, boys?" Jack asked with a smile.

* * *

_Thank you all so much for your brilliant suggestions about whether Amy should be told/find out about the ring. I have made a decision about where this story will go, so you guys will just have to wait and see. (Credit will be given in the chapter that the idea is used, but I'm not going to say anything now because SPOILERS!). If you have any more requests or suggestions about where you would like to see this story to go, please let me know! I love hearing your ideas!_

**Please review and make my day.**


	8. Captain contumacious

_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or Captain Jack Harkness's heart. If any of the above changes, I will be sure to notify you._

_This chapter is dedicated to the infinitely wonderful __**Sylva Dax**__._

* * *

**Chapter 8: Captain contumacious**

The Doctor took a deep breath, and began his explanation. "Well, for the past week or so, Rory and I have been – well first we went to a store on Earth but then there was a…mishap…with security when – it wasn't my intention of course – but I knew I would never be able to find anything suitable on Earth, anyway – twenty-first century jewellery – and she's from the fifty second century – well sort of, that's where she went to university – but then I suppose she's technically from the twenty-first because she was born then…" he trailed off, furrowing his brow in thought.

Jack smirked at Rory. "He's eloquent in this regeneration, isn't he?"

Rory snorted in response, and Jack laughed lightly, shaking his head fondly, as he watched the Doctor, who was now pacing the office and mumbling to himself non-stop under his breath, seemingly lost in thought. Rory sighed. _I guess I have to explain, then. _

"He wants to give River the perfect wedding ring," He explained to Jack. "First we looked on Earth, but this one got arrested for nearly walking out with a diamond ring still in hand—yeah, he does things like that all the time—but since then, we've bought a TARDIS-blue stone, and we've chosen a design. We just need to get the ring made, and the stone cut and set in it."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "So what do you need from me?"

"Well, we—" he started, then frowned. "I don't know, actually."

Jack watched the man in the bowtie—who was still lost in pacing, lost in thought—and frowned. He lowered his voice, leaning towards Rory, frowning. "If they're _married, _why hasn't he given her a ring, yet?"

The Doctor was suddenly brought from his mumblings by the whisperings of his friends. He always had to know what was going on. "Oh, because time went wrong; you see, she was kidnapped on the day she was born, and brainwashed to hate me, raised to kill me. And she did, but then she used all her remaining regenerations to save—"

"Wait, _regenerations?_" Jack interrupted, frowning. "How does she have regenerations, if she's human?"

"She's human _plus_," the Doctor answered. "Anyway, she—"

"But _how?_" Jack frowned.

The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh at the man's interruptions. "She was conceived on the TARDIS," he said, tight-lipped, as he glanced quickly at Rory.

"Good on ya, buddy," Jack laughed, giving Rory a grin and a thumbs-up.

"_As I was saying," _The Doctor said pointedly, shooting a glare at Jack. "She saved me, but years later, they kidnapped her again, and made her kill me. My death on April twenty-two two thousand and eleven by Lake Silencio in Utah is a fixed point in time, but because she's stubborn, she refused to do it, thereby altering the fixed point. And even when time was dying around us, she was still being stubborn and refused to kill me. So the only way to save all of time was to marry her."

Jack frowned. "So you didn't _want _to marry her? Doctor, that's not very—"

"Of course I _wanted _to marry her, Jack. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't. No one forces my hand; no one! You know that." His voice was sharp, and his anger appeared to be rising. He sighed sadly, and suddenly he looked less like a four year old stuck in a twenty-something's body, and more like what he really was: a thousand-plus year-old Time Lord who was never done saving the world. He took a seat on the edge of Jack's desk, and dropped his head in his hand, rubbing his temples in circles.

"I love her. Our timelines are all wrong, though. Me and River, we're all out of order. Not strictly back to front, but mostly out of order. I always knew that I would marry her at some point in my timeline, from the very first time I met her." He looked up, his eyes glassy, and stared at the opposite wall. "I just didn't picture it being in an aborted timeline, as a seeming last resort to save all of time from dying."

"Well that's…" Jack started, and then paused to look for words. He looked to Rory for assurance, but Rory just grimaced at him. There was silence for a few moments, while Jack replayed the conversation in his head. He frowned. "But if you restarted time and then she _killed _you," he spoke slowly, articulating each word, "How are you…" He trailed off, and finished his sentence by poking the Doctor in the chest, as though to check he was real.

The Doctor smiled cockily. "Because I'm brilliant, Jack. You know that."

Jack and Rory both rolled their eyes, as the Doctor grinning around at them.

"No, but really; how are you here, if she killed you?"

"Regener—"

"Don't treat me like an idiot, Doctor." Jack said sharply, then smiled. "I'm not. You know that." He raised his eyebrows at the Doctor as he mimicked the man's words from only moments before. The Doctor sighed, and Jack continued. "Anyone who would go to such lengths as kidnapping a part-Time Lord and raising her to kill you, would obviously know of your regeneration ability, and would have made damn sure that when Doctor Song _did _kill you, that you wouldn't be able to regenerate."

The man in the bowtie sighed, and pushed himself off the desk, restarting his pacing. "It's a long story, Jack."

"I've got time," he folded his arms across his chest, and raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, waiting for him to explain.

_Captain Jack, stubborn, as always, _the Doctor thought. He took a deep breath, and decided to start with the simplest explanation."I got my hands on a Tesselecta."

"Please tell me that's the name of a kinky alien life-form with sexy resurrection powers."

The Doctor shot him a half-disapproving, half-amused glare. "No, it's a time-travelling, shape-shifting robot, operated by miniaturised people; Justice Department vehicle. I assume you know of the Justice Department?"

Jack rolled his eyes at this. "Do I," he muttered darkly. "Bunch of no-good idiots who think they're gods!"

The Doctor grimaced. "Yes, well, they did help save my life," he allowed.

Jack shrugged. "So basically you cheated time, and the whole universe thinks you're dead."

The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, the hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Basically."

Jack smiled faintly, before standing and walking around his desk to take a seat in his high-backed desk chair, which had thus far been neglected. He hit a key on the keyboard of his computer, and it whirred to life. "Right, so who wants you dead, and why?" he asked, matter-of-factly.

The Doctor sighed yet again. He ran his hand through his hair nervously. "Have you ever heard of the Silence?"

Jack frowned. "No, I don't think so. Who is the Silence?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Not who, Jack, _what. _The Silence is a religious order whose core belief is that Silence will fall when the first question, the oldest question in the universe, is asked."

"Right," Jack said slowly. "So, what is the question?"

"I don't know," the Doctor lied smoothly. He could not tell Jack; he refused to involve his friends in this. After all the harm he'd done to them all, in the course of his running from his past, of his running from the question, he would not drag them all back into this. He would give Jack enough information to use his Torchwood resources for research purposes only. No one else would be sacrificed for him. He wouldn't let the Silence hurt anyone else he cared about, now that he knew it was him they wanted – River, Amy and Rory had already been hurt because of him, because he didn't know of the Silence's plans. He swore to himself after Demon's Run, that he wouldn't let them get to him through the people he loved; he wouldn't allow them to.

"Okay, so what else do you know about them?" Jack asked, typing furiously on his computer.

"There is some significance to the Fields of Trenzalore, where no living being can speak falsely or fail to answer," the Doctor responded, recalling what Dorium had told him.

"Anything else?"

"Yes, the creatures. They're aliens, called the Silence. They have some human servants, but mostly they rule the human race through post-hypnotic suggestion."

"How?"

"They're memory proof. You can only remember them while you're seeing them; so as soon as you look away, you feel disoriented, but any idea that's planted while you were looking at them remains, though the memory of them doesn't. You can't even remember what they look like. Even information about them begins to delete itself over time."

"That would explain why there is not even a whisper about them in the Torchwood archives," Jack muttered, frustrated.

The Doctor grimaced, regarding Jack with understanding. Jack was very good at his job; investigating the Silence would wreak havoc with his stability; Jack Harkness always needed to be in control. He was much like the Doctor in that respect.

"I'll get a team together, and we'll do what we can, although I don't know how much help we'll be. If you've known about them for this long, and still only know so little, I can't promise much." Jack said, now scribbling on a piece of paper.

"Thanks, Jack," the Doctor said, smiling gratefully.

* * *

_Recently I went back and edited/tweaked previous chapters so that the whole story flows a bit better. So if you happen to be re-reading, you may notice a few differences, but nothing major! I also fixed the sonic screwdriver continuity error in chapter five, which was kindly pointed out by the wonderful __**Sylva Dax. **_

_Please keep your suggestions for what you want to see in the rest of this story coming. Your suggestions are what make this story what it is! I couldn't do it without all you wonderful people._

**Please review and make my day.**


	9. Friends and former companions

_**Disclaimer**__: Unfortunately, I still don't own Doctor Who. But I'll keep you updated on my progress towards my goal of being best friends with Matt, Karen and Arthur._

_This chapter is dedicated to my fellow Australian Nerdfighter Doctor/River shippers, __**Kaitie, Natalie, Lucette and Natalie**__ because they're amazing._

* * *

**Chapter 9: Friends and former companions**

Jack looked up at them when he had finished scribbling. "So, back to the reason you came here in the first place, because I know you, Doctor, and I doubt it was a social call, or just to update me on your life. Rory said something about a ring?"

"Do you have any recommendations for where I should go to get the ring made?" the Doctor asked, his eyes turned on Jack, who was startled to see a hint of pleading in them.

"Not personally, but I think I know someone who _can_, and you're in luck, because she arrived to visit me only about an hour before you arrived, and—"

"Jack?" a familiar voice called from the hallway.

"Speak of the devil," Jack smiled.

"Jack, why is the TARDIS parked in the middle of the—" Martha's eyes widened as she stopped dead in the doorway, at the sight of the man in the tweed jacket and bowtie. She stared, mouth agape.

The Doctor took a step forward, pushing himself off from Jack's desk. "Martha Jones," he smiled warmly, spreading his arms wide. "Or is it Jones-Smith? Or Smith-Jones?"

"Smith-Jones," she said hoarsely, stepping towards him tentatively.

She glanced at Jack, who nodded once. At this, her posture relaxed, and she grinned. "I definitely preferred the suit, Doctor," she laughed.

"Come here, you," was his only response, as he closed the gap between them and embraced her.

"No, really, Doctor, I _definitely _preferred the suit," she laughed as she hugged him. She pulled away wrinkling her nose as she looking pointedly at his bowtie.

"Bowties are cool," he muttered sniffily, straightening the strip of cloth around his neck self-consciously.

"Martha, this is Rory," Jack said, indicating the man next to him.

"Nice to meet you, Rory," she smiled warmly, shaking the centurion's hand. "So what brings you here, Doctor?" she asked, turning to face her old friend.

"The Doctor needs to get a ring cut, and he came to us to ask if we know any good places," Jack smirked.

"Oh, sure I know some up in…wait, a ring? Like, a _wedding _ring?" She raised her eyebrows, and looked between Jack and the Doctor in disbelief.

"Yep," Jack responded his grin wide, and his eyes twinkling. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Martha, who hit him playfully on the arm, before throwing her arms around the surprised Doctor's neck, and squealing, "Congratulations!"

"What's all the commotion about in here, eh?" Mickey poked his head around the door, and his eyes narrowed, as he caught sight of the two unfamiliar men, and his wife wrapped around one of them. "Who're you, then?" He asked, crossing his arms defensively across his chest, and glaring at the Doctor.

"You always did get a bit freaked out when my face changed, didn't you, Mickey Smith?" the Doctor laughed, gently extricating himself from Martha.

"Doctor?" Mickey asked, stunned, as the man gripped his shoulders in a friendly hug. "What – what're you doing here?"

"The Doctor is getting married, and he wanted advice on where to get the ring made," Martha explained with a grin. "Although why he came to _Jack _for advice on wedding jewellery is beyond me," she continued playfully.

"She's got a point, Doctor. What on New Earth possessed you to think that I would be the most suitable advisor for this?"

The Doctor merely shrugged, scratching his face and avoiding eye contact with his friends and former companions.

Jack grinned, "Just wanted an excuse to come and see me, then?" he teased.

The Doctor's mouth opened to protest, and his arms flailed before him expressively, but as his mouth opened and closed, no sound escaped. He blushed, and they all laughed.

"So," Martha said, "Are you two going to join us for dinner? We were just about to head off."

"Yes, sure, dinner! I love dinner!" the Doctor exclaimed, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in anticipation. "Rory, are you up for dinner?"

"Your ride, your choice, Doctor," Rory shrugged.

"Well, then, dinner it is!" the Doctor grinned. "Lead the way, Doctor Jones!"

The Doctor sniffed the contents of his glass. "It smells sweet." He wrinkled his nose. "If it's _wine, _why does it smell _sweet_?"

Martha sighed. "It's dessert wine, Doctor. It's meant to be sweet."

He nodded, swirling the pink-white liquid in his glass, before taking another sip. He gulped loudly, and replaced the glass to the table, regarding it thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about the sweetness." He smacked his lips. "It's great!"

"Yeah, he also likes tequila sunrises, and strawberry daiquiris, for that same reason," Jack muttered to Rory under his breath.

Rory snorted. "How many has he had?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Not many," Jack smirked, watching the Doctor, who was now giggling uncontrollably at the sight of a scantily-clad woman who was making their way into the restaurant, on the arm of an old, and apparently incredibly rich, man.

"Fine establishment you've recommended for our dinner, Jack," Mickey remarked, grimacing at Martha.

"Hey! We had a wonderful, three-course meal and the best of the best wine, didn't we?" Jack defended himself. "And besides, there have only been a few of those…" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "_brands _of dinner guests. Everyone else has been frightfully above-board, if you ask me."

Martha shook her head at Jack, though her disapproval was betrayed by the fond smile playing about her lips. "Someone should probably get this old man home," she said, indicating the Doctor, who was now feeding himself his chocolate cake by pretending the fork was an aeroplane, noises and all.

"Probably," Rory laughed, observing the Doctor's drunkenness with amusement. He checked his watch. His shift at the hospital began in an hour. "Oh, crap, we've got to go," he announced. "Give me a hand with this one, will you?" he grinned at Jack, indicating the Doctor.

"Sure, if you'll give me a hand with something else later," Jack winked, returning the grin as he stood from the table.

"Umm…" Rory glanced around desperately to avoid eye contact with Jack, the heat rising in his face.

Jack laughed at the other man's reaction, and reaching into the pocket of his long trench coat for his wallet, which he tossed at Martha. "Fix the bill, for me, hey, Jones? We'll meet you out front."

"Alright, up you get, buddy," Rory sang, like a parent speaking to a four year old, as he grabbed the Doctor's arm, and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"For a skinny fella, he's sure got a bit of weight to him, hey?" Jack remarked, as he gripped the Doctor's waist, and threw the man's arm over his shoulder.

After a bit of pushing and pulling from Jack and Rory, and a fair bit of grumbling from the Doctor, they got him out into the fresh air, and loaded him into the front seat of Jack's car. After Martha and Mickey joined them in the car, they zipped quickly through the streets of Cardiff.

* * *

**Reviews are my favourite things! **

_(Y'know, apart from chocolate, Australian Nerdfighters, Matt Smith's face, and Alex Kingston's hair)_


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